


The Dragon and The Burning Man

by TheWitchAndTheVoid (GhastlyGirl)



Series: A Moment in Time [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Altered valo-kas, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Humour, Inquisitor has major survivors guilt, Lots of unwanted feelings, Minor canon divergence, NSFW chapters marked, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reluctant saviour, Sexual Tension, Side Hawke/Varric, Slow Burn, Smut, Swearing, Tal-Vashoth not trusting Ben-Hassrath, Work In Progress, explicit content, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhastlyGirl/pseuds/TheWitchAndTheVoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and doesn't Katari know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. INTRO / UPDATE

 

Thank you to all who have supported this fic so far and I hope the new, edited chapters bring you joy.

If you would like to read the fic that was previously here in all its unedited glory, feel free to message me at pickldpeppr.tumblr.com and I will happily send it to you.

 

Happy reading ~

 

S


	2. 1 - One For Sorrow, Two For Joy

_She was seven when her father taught her how to hold her blades. The black leather wrappings around the hilts were cracked and faded from countless fights she was too young to remember, the edges newly sharpened. He had smiled at her when he gifted them, wrapping her tiny hands around the grasp to show her how to hold them. “You’re ready to make us proud, kadan.” He purred with a flash of sharpened teeth. She recoiled instinctively and her father laughed._

_“Oh, my dear girl,” he stood to his full height now, her father’s elongated shadow slipping seamlessly across the nearby trees as he stalked towards their prey. “You have so much to learn.” She followed reluctantly behind him._ _The forest wrapped around them as he led her down the beaten path away from their camp. The child looked over her shoulder just in time to see her mother wave them goodbye, she did not smile._ _“Please don’t make me do this.” The words escaped from her lips as barely a whisper. She wasn’t sure her father had heard her plea, if he did he had made no indication; the only answer the girl received was from the forest, a light breeze carrying bird song._

_They arrived at a clearing, a scorched patch of earth surrounded by dense forest where nothing had dared to grow for generations. When she was a young girl her father told stories to the camp’s children about the great battle that had happened here, their proud clan of Tal-Vashoth against an army of blood mages. There was a different battle here now, in a way.  Before her stood a bloody post erected in the center of the glade, a jagged pike ejecting from the top to brazenly present a severed head. They held celebrations on this spot every year, their nomadic existence bringing them to this very spot at the height of summer to scream and grieve for the loss of their clansmen and to uphold the ones that survived, a cacophony of shrieks and cheers acting as their calling song to reach out to long lost ancestors. In that moment, the young girl wished she could have felt her ancestors; she did not. Instead, it was just the soft breeze again, now colder on her skin, that sought to comfort her._

_Beneath the pole, almost lost in the tangle of thick, tight ropes that ensnared him, sat her brother. The girl felt as if she had been kicked, all air escaping her lungs at once, “I can’t, please-“_

_“You will do as the clan wishes.” Her father interrupted. He stood with his hands held behind his back, staring forward at her brother. His expression was blank. “This thing you see before you is a saarebas set to destroy our very existence, a demon in a child’s skin.”_

_“He’s your son!”_

_“I never had a son. The sorcery that flows through his veins proves this much.” From the corner of her eye she could see her brother wince. He span on his heel and turned to face the young girl. “You do this, and you prove your use to the camp. From this day on you will be a fighter, our katari, conquering enemies with the unstoppable force I see within you. With this demon here the world is unbalanced, but uou can cleanse this world of evil with us, provide aqun to our bloodline. Your ancestors are with you now, and every year you will be held aloft with them here, at the site of your first victory.” He gripped her shoulder firmly, “You fail, however, and the clan will do what they do with all useless things,” he smiled at her once more, “They will destroy you, and you will be forgotten.”_

The swing came from her blindside, her swollen right eye giving her pinned opponent enough cover to send a fist into her jaw, her mouth filling with warm, coppery blood. The momentum forced her body to barrel to the left, allowing her attacker to scrabble to his feet; the crowd roared from around the ring, their faces contorted in the candlelight. The pit began to spin, and the only thing the Qunari could focus on was the sweat that rolled down her forehead and the screaming of her muscles. Pain was good, pain kept her centred. She stood shakily. Blurred vision eventually became clear and she could see her foe on the other side of the ring, his hand attempting vainly to stem the blood that poured from a gushing knife wound. She spat blood onto the floor, her eyes catching sight of a large open gash on her inner calf, the tip of a rusted dagger protruding oddly from the wound. At least it wasn’t her face this time.

From the corner of her eye she could see a tall, horned figure rise up from the crowd, arms wavingly wildly before and object was hurled in her direction. She caught the object with ease, her brain not registering the movement she must have taken to catch it. The crowd roared once more, the angry sea of people jostling against each other, the sound of their chants and shouts morphing into one monotonous screech. “Katari!” One familiar voice rose amongst the rest, “Katari, stay with it!” She looked down once more at her hands and unsheathed the curved dagger she had been thrown. Her opponent resumed a fighting stance.

 

Katari lunged, the erratic movement causing her opponent to throw their body to the side. They slipped, rolled, and picked up half a spear she had broken only minutes ago. She laughed to keep him on edge, but the great blade that protruded from the snapped wood caused her to inwardly shudder. Katari let him lunge first this time, twisting on the balls of her feet to dodge him before wrapping her free hand around his left horn and pulling backwards. His stance faltered and he tumbled, allowing her to swing a leg over and throw all her weight onto his back. He was pinned again, his horn still in her hand as his face pressed into the bloody sand beneath them.

“Do it!”, “Finish him!”, the shouts of the crowd circled in her head as she sat on his back, the pit spinning faster now. She felt drunk. Her gut clenched as she drew her eyes away from the floor and towards the mass of people above her, the quick shift causing her to gag. It felt like one hundred different faces passed her vision, some twisted into devilish grins, some contorted in anger, others were still. It felt like hours before her eyes fell on the one familiar smile she found in the crowd; her brother smiled. Katari pulled her opponents horn towards her chest and ran her blade across his freshly exposed neck, his blood spurting away from her to mingle with the sand covered floor. The pit spun faster and tilted before her vision went black. The last thing she heard was the crowd roar in delight, another fight well fought.

 

*

 

She awoke in a dingy basement room. _Her_ dingy basement room, she gathered from the familiar water stained ceiling that filled her vision. Katari slowly began to shift each part of her body, shuffling slowly to assess damage; her left leg was a little sore and her eye socket felt like someone was hitting her with a club every time she blinked, but it was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. Small slithers of light slipped in her room from the small hole at the top of her wall to dance across her face, the curtain of the so-called window tied back with tattered rope. From her bed she could hear the scratching of a quill on parchment, and the occasional muffled curse.

“Aqun?” the scratching stopped, the silence instead filled with a long, heavy sigh.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Her brother’s words were barely audible. “You almost lost, and I- I saw people _cheer_ , like your life was worth less than the money they had handed the bookies.”

“It’s just business, Aqun-“

“You didn’t see yourself when you came out of there, you’ve never just passed out before, I thought you-“ Aqun’s hushed voice broke, “You had just lost so much blood, Kat, I could _feel_ it.” Katari began to sit and her brother was immediately beside her, hand pressed into the small of back as he helped her swing her slide up to lean against the small headboard. “I can’t lose you.”

 

“This is the best hope we have of keeping you safe, Aqun. Whether it be the circle, or other Tal-Vashoth, or-“ she gestured broadly, “whatever, at least with this we can move quickly, and have enough connections to do it safely. What else can we do?” Katari was used to this conversation, they had it so often she felt like she was running off a script. He would cry, she would cry, she’d go collect her payment and after paying rent and putting food on the table she would be signing up for another match with empty pockets. But this time was different. Aqun had shown anger before, sadness, frustration, but never the fear he showed today; his hands clutched hers too tightly, his was voice too unrestrained.

“I’ve found another option for us. It’ll be hard, and we may never see a decent meal again. It’ll put us on the open road, sure, and maybe I’ll run into danger – I’ll run into danger one thousand times a day if I have to, but I just can’t _fucking_ lose you.”

“And I can’t lose you either, you understand that, right?” Katari placed a hand on his shoulder, “You’re all I have. But if this is what you want,” she paused, detesting the words about to slip out of her mouth, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

 

*

 

“Katari, wake up.” Someone was calling her outside her tent. “Katari.” The light filtering throughthe thin tent walls was blinding, she shut her eyes tighter. “Kat, I know you can hear me.” The voice sounded familiar, perhaps her brother, but in the haze of sleep it really didn’t matter to her. The tent opening rustled as the figure stepped in. “Oi, dickhead, wake up.” she felt a soft kick hit her shins. It was definitely her brother. Katari let out a small groan.

“Fuck off.”

“We’re going to be late, get up!” He nudged her back with his foot and she swatted at it blindly.

“Give me another five minutes.” she mumbled, covering her head with the itchy woollen blanket.

“Everyone is waiting.” She could almost hear the smirk in Aqun’s words and she groaned.

“Tell them their great and ferocious leader is devising a new battle tactic and cannot possibly be disturbed.” The woollen cover was pulled away from her and she sat up, palms pressed against her forehead. “Why must you be such a cunt, Aqun?” she grumbled into her hands.

“It must run in the family,” he laughed, folding up the blanket as he slid out of the tent, “you have five minutes to be up and out or we’re leaving without you.”

 

The light was still blinding when Katari finally exited her tent, bedroll in hand. Her long, red curls tangled around her horns like snakes, her shirt buttons sitting uncomfortably in the wrong slits. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and squinted at the camp around her, currently in the middle of being dismantled.

“Nice to see that you’re finally gracing us with your presence!” her brother smirked, bowing at her dramatically. Katari rolled her eyes, before picking up some sheeting and stuffing it into a nearby canvas bag.

“It is far too early to be putting up with your bullshit, Aqun.”

“Now you see that’s where you’re wrong. It is never too early for my bullshit.” Katari glared at him before lazily throwing the travelling bag in his direction. He caught it easily and set it down with the others, forming a somewhat organised pile of equipment.

“You’re cheery this morning.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Finally on the open road, a gaggle of misfits in hand, proving to my sister that my ideas area _always_ good.”

“Look, Aqun, you know the deal. This ragtag mercenary gang doesn’t make money in the next month and we let all these…misfits…go back home.” Katari sighed, “Which, with my organisational expertise and leadership skills, seems very likely.”

 “You’ve done a pretty good job of looking after me. What’s another ten?” he smiled and Katari sighed.

“Don’t you think I’m too young for this? Half the people here have maybe twice, even triple the experience I can offer.”

“You’re twenty-two Kat, which yes is young in the grand scheme of things, but you’ve had fifteen years of looking after me and my magical side effects; and we both know I’m a handful at the best of times.” He smiled, and she softened. “You’ll be fine, we both will. _Safe_ even, maybe, if we don’t run into a giant any time soon. ”

“Well I guess there’s no turning back now anyway, and none of them are going to be a bigger pain in the arse than you already are.” Aqun pretended to be grossly offended at that and she shoved him playfully. “Lets just try and fill those small contracts you found on the chantry board and go from there.”

“That’s the spirit!” Aqun smacked her on the back, before addressing the group “We’re moving out in ten, be ready!”

 

*

 

The Valo-Kas mercenary company quickly became known for taking contracts other groups strongly shied away from, the twins taking any deal that put food on the table and ale in the hand; nothing was considered too corrupt for the group as long as the pay was good, and she could be sure of the whole band’s relative safety. Katari never advertised them this way, of course, and if any of the group were to express concern over a commission she would drop it in a heartbeat; but this never happened. The small band of misfits trusted her completely, and she believed in them. Over five years their numbers grew slowly, Katari never quick to accept new recruits, but their reputation spread like wildfire. The murderous red-headed Qunari twins soon became a staple at Orlesian balls and they were both perfectly happy to stand either side of a room, glaring at passing nobles and dignitaries, demonstrating the host’s ‘exotic taste’. At first Katari found the practice demeaning, being treated like an expensive and deadly centrepiece to wow guests always made her feel cheap; but the airing of her qualms only resulted in offers she could not refuse and her makeshift family always ate well after one of those unpleasant evenings. She also noticed her brother seemed to have a fascination with Orlesian gossip, and she was never one to deny him of anything, as much she hated to admit it.

 

It was after a particularly egregious evening at one of these events that Katari found herself tucked into a corner of the local tavern by a crackling fire, nursing ale that tasted like watered down urine and blanking out the sounds around her. She knew it had been a bad idea to allow Maggie to accompany her to the ball, but she didn’t expect her to punch a nobleman for calling her a knife-ear, though Katari admitted he did truly deserve it. She wasn’t sure whether the lack of a wages were due to Maggie’s actions, or the fact that the sound of Aqun’s hysterical laughter disrupted the orchestra, but either way she had to decide on a new contract that would keep food on the table.

 

“And then he said ‘ _Why aren’t you serving any of zee drinkez’_ , so already the fucker had gone too far-” Katari’s thoughts were distracted by Maggie’s poor attempt at an Orlesian accent booming from halfway across the tavern; for a small elf she had an impressive set of lungs on her. She sighed, tucking the contracts into a satchel before rising from her stool and attempting to down the rest of her pint; she definitely wasn’t going to get any work finished tonight. Katari thought of their campsite outside (or as Maggie had lovingly called it, ‘the campshite’) and the pouring rain that was probably soaking everything through at this very moment, and shivered; her body was reluctant to leave the warmth of this ramshackle building, as foul smelling as it may be. Katari rose the tankard to her lips one last time. She was too busy attempting to finish the last of her foul tasting ale to realise the tavern had turned eerily quiet, and it wasn’t until she placed her tankard on the stained wooden table that she noticed even Maggie had shut up, a first in her books for sure. That surely wasn’t a good sign.

 

Katari looked at where everyone was staring, which seemed to be a mixture of her, her brother, and the unfamiliar Qunari now stood sternly within the entranceway, staring directly at her. Katari’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted around him, looking for anything that would dismiss the nightmares flashing within her mind. The man obviously wasn’t Tal-Vashoth, he would have either snuck in as quietly as he could or otherwise immediately tried to start a pissing contest; Katari wasn’t really a fan of her fellow outcasts, too much posturing. No, his gaze was slow, body already angled slightly to protect his weaker areas; if Katari was closer she was pretty sure she could see the cogs turning behind his eye. So, not Tal-Vashoth, so what was left? Images flashed behind her eyes of the monsters that used to haunt her as a child, villains from the tales her father used to tell her, of the horned people who would butcher our young and steal our loved ones. He seemed to be accompanied by others, some humans, an elf, a dwarf, so perhaps he wasn’t here to slam a collar on her brother, but she could never be too sure. Katari’s eyes found Aqun’s and he looked as fearful as she felt, which only strengthened her desire to protect her own. She turned slowly to the intruder, whose stare was still boring into her very being. She inhaled, and looked him in the eyes.

 

“The ale here tastes like piss, perhaps it's best if you go somewhere else.” Katari could feel all eyes in the tavern turn from her to him, anticipating a response. She inwardly kicked herself for starting the posturing battle that she loathed, but it was the only thing that came to mind; if he was the monster from her nightmare then chances are he saw mindless savages, so she might as well damn act like one.

The corner of his lip pulled upwards into a smirk. “Yeah, looks like it,” He took a stride into the Tavern, “but there isn’t another place to get a drink near here, so it looks like we’re staying.”

Katari matched his step, pulling herself away from the safety of the tavern corner, “I don’t think you quite understood, I’m telling you to leave.”

“Oh I noticed,” he took another step, “but like I said, we’re not moving”.

One of his human companions piped up, “Chief I really think we should-“

“Krem. Let me deal with this.” A hand shot out to signal for him to stand down, but his stare never left hers.

She stepped forward again, well aware she was now close enough to strike him if she needed to, the steel of her hidden dagger pressing into her calf.

He was tall, taller than her brother, and if she moved a foot closer her forehead would be flat against his shoulder. “Well there isn’t enough room for all of us. I don’t want us to lock horns so, I suggest you take your ragtag gang and leave us be before-“ the Qunari’s was trembling slightly, eyes still frowning but lips pressed tightly together, “are you…sniggering?”

The intruder looked at Katari’s puzzled face and lost his composure, his booming laugh completely dissipating the building tension of the tavern, head thrown back as he roared; Katari considered sending a blade into his jugular for having such a shit sense of humour.

“Lock horns! Because we both! Oh that was great, did you even mean to make that joke? Oh Krem, Krem! Did you hear that?” the Qunari turned over his shoulder to look at his companion, wiping a small tear from his eyes.

“It was kind of hard not to chief.” The man behind him was small and rolling his eyes dramatically, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh that was brilliant, I’m going to use that.” He was wearing a large grin, cheeks slightly red. The intruder extended his hand to her. A truce? Because of a joke? And not even a good one at that, did he not know how these things worked? Katari stared at the open palm in disdain.

"What? Are you- No."

"No?" He didn’t seem shocked at her refusal and it made her feel all the more ridiculous for turning down the option of temporary safety; Katari shifted in her boots.

"No. We were here first, and you finding something funny doesn't change anything." The man leaned closer, still holding out his hand, and his booming voice softened. "Look, forget the horns. What are you, blade for hire? Let this be one merc to another, y’know?" Katari looked

down, if he wanted to make a move against her he would have by now, she figured. She took his hand cautiously. “I’m The Iron Bull, those back there are my Chargers.”

Aqun had joined Katari’s side with Maggie, who was attempting to glare at him despite being at least two feet smaller.

“I’m Katari, this is my brother, my group over there are the Valo-Kas.“ she gestured into the general area of her company “Now if you could excuse me, I shall be returning to them. Now.”

Katari took a step to leave but Bull kept a firm grip on her hand.

“I figured we could maybe try some of that piss poor ale you were talking about, exchange tales, you know, one merc to another.”

"Never going to happen." Katari pulled her hand out of his forcefully, almost elbowing Aqun in the process. "It was nice to meet you, Iron Bull, stay on your side of the room."

"The Iron Bull." Katari rolled her eyes.

"Yeah okay, sure."

Aqun piped up, wearing his cool composure like an extravagant costume, "come on Kat, don't be a dick. The Iron Bull has been more than accommodating to us."

"This isn't his tavern, Aqun." Katari spat. From behind her she could hear him mumbling about how it technically wasn't hers either.

“You want me to play nice?” Katari turned to Bull, “The Iron Bull, welcome to this lovely tavern in the middle of nowhere, I’m sure the scene we’ve made will mean you are _very welcome_ in this little village. Just know that if you step over this floorboard towards my men, I’ll slit your throat.” Katari paused, “Have a nice night!”

She smiled harshly at Bull, flashing far too many teeth, before turning on her heel to leave him in the middle of the tavern. Katari returned to her group, with Maggie and Aqun by her side. She had nothing more to say to him, but the small elf definitely felt like inputting her two sovereigns, and the rest of the night was spent convincing Maggie to maybe talk with her indoor voice for once. It was after a particularly rude comment about what he could do with the remaining fingers on his left hand that she found her clapping a palm over her mouth with a little too much force, while her brother tittered away at the end of the table. She turned slowly to look at the chargers' corner but they were being too loud for him to hear anything, weren't they?

She examined him closer. His eye was examining his tankard with a little too much enthusiasm, and the corners of his mouth were turned up into an amused smile, as he ran the thumb of his free hand over the severed fingers.

Shit, he'd definitely heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking around during my (not-so-planned and incredibly long) hiatus, and if you're still here for the reposting then I am honestly amazed. The support this fic has gotten has been breathtaking and every comment from you guys gives me so much enthusiasm to keep writing.
> 
> Please let me know what you think, where you want the story to go, what you would like to see more developed and what you want played down. This story is now as much yours as it is mine, and if you want to see something happen I am more than willing to listen to your advice.
> 
> Happy Reading! ~
> 
> S

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is currently being edited and reposted, let me know in the comments what you think! 
> 
> Want to chat? Message me at pickldpeppr.tumblr.com, I'll be happy to answer any questions.


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